


My Body Tells Me No (But I Won't Quit, Cause I Want More)

by TheSpearDanes



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 13:17:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6957982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpearDanes/pseuds/TheSpearDanes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tobin understands what a "hands-off" policy is. Sort of.<br/>OR<br/>the one with kiss-cam!talex</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Body Tells Me No (But I Won't Quit, Cause I Want More)

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fun little angst free one-shot.

It's just supposed to be a normal night out for Tobin. Santos gets the two of them Lakers tickets— _ Lakers _ tickets—and then cancels on her last minute when his girlfriend decides she can't go, because apparently he can't go anywhere without his girlfriend and suddenly Tobin ends ups sitting by a bunch of people who are more or less strangers to her. 

 

She only really knows Servando, not well or anything, but just enough to have an opinion on him. He's okay, pretty cool but also overwhelmingly frat, and while Tobin’s more than involved in Greek life, she likes to think she has a little more elegance in the way she conducts herself than Servando and his two sidekicks. He’s one of Santos’ frat brothers though, and Tobin loves Santos, so she puts up with him. 

 

It also helps that Servando's girlfriend is truly, ridiculously, almost unfairly drop dead gorgeous. 

 

And the sad thing is, Tobin’s not even exaggerating. 

 

She sees her for the first time at the Sigma Alpha Epsilon house. Santos invites her there to a “small gathering” which really means fifty people instead of one hundred, and she's nowhere near drunk enough to deal with such a beautiful girl when she waltzes in at Servando’s side. 

 

She's all long legs and baby blue eyes and pink curling lips, and Tobin can't really help the way her stomach tightens, the way her heart accelerates, the way her breathing hitches. 

 

Santos is the one to pick her jaw up off the floor, to stop her drooling. He fixes her with a stern, slightly amused stare, and shakes his head at her before she can even begin to get a word in edgewise. 

 

“You like her,” he states blatantly, before Tobin can so much as form a sentence, and Tobin fights the subtle blush of her cheeks.

 

“Well,” he continues without waiting for her response, “that's too bad. She's hands off, kiddo,” he tells her, and Tobin just rolls her eyes, shrugs her shoulders. 

 

“Whatever. She's like, the straightest girl I've ever seen, San,” she responds, and then narrows her eyes as Santos laughs deeply, an almost smug look coming over him. 

 

“You’d be surprised how flexible she is, actually,” Santos says, and then waits for Tobin to redden further, “she's Alex Morgan.”

 

Tobin allows her eyes to widen, allows her gaze to flicker back over to the beautiful brunette once more. 

 

“ _ That's  _ Alex?” She asks, incredulous, “ _ that’s  _ the soccer player?”

 

“She's quite a catch, huh?” Santos asks her, and the instant Tobin starts to nod, he more or less shuts her down, “well don't get any ideas. Servando's very...protective of her, to say the least,” He says, and when Tobin still can’t seem to grasp the concept, he gives her a bit of a nudge. 

 

A push, really, which Tobin doesn’t like.

 

“Ow, watch it,” She huffs, rubbing sorely at her arm, “I heard you. Hands off. Understood.”

 

Apparently Santos  _ wants _ her to get laid out by Servando, because his absence puts Tobin in his seat, right smack dab next to Servando and his girl, and really after that, Tobin just doesn’t have a chance. 

 

“Hey Tobs,” Servando greets her, and Tobin relaxes, hoping Servando will be the one to sit by her, but he stops short and smiles at her, somewhat smug, “sorry to hear Santos left you all alone here. Hopefully you and Alex can keep each other from getting too bored,” He tells her.

 

At first Tobin bristles, because no matter how many times Santos talks to Servando about his girlfriend, and no matter how many times Tobin comments on the attractiveness of other girls, he can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that Tobin isn’t interested in Santos, and even more so, that she isn’t Santos’ “side chick” as he so often terms it. 

 

And she clenches her fists in soft anger because, once again, Servando assumes she knows nothing about basketball, which, as she was her home state’s top scorer in her high school years, infuriates her. 

 

She’s about to let him know,  _ sweetly _ of course, that she’ll be just fine without Santos beside her, when low and behold, he steps back and there she is, sliding by in the royal purple and bright bronze of the Lakers’ to sit right next to Tobin, and suddenly all of Tobin’s complaints are gone. 

 

Alex isn’t just hot in her high waisted shorts, a dark purple muscle t-shirt hiding just enough of her from view, a Lakers snapback sitting backwards on her head, she’s adorable, and it’s rather unfair. 

 

“Hey Tobin,” She says brightly, eyes lighting up, and Tobin has to fight to swallow as her mouth grows dry. 

 

“Heeeeeeeeeeey there...you,” Tobin manages out, and she cringes at how lame she sounds, “Nice to uh...see that, uh...you look really….” Tobin falters as Alex’s brows contract together in the softest confusion as Tobin frantically tries to remember how to use her words, “you look healthy.”

 

She’s thankful Santos isn’t there after all, because he’d never let her hear the end of it if he witnessed her calling Alex Morgan “healthy”. 

 

“Thanks,” Alex says after a moment of hesitation, her confusion and uncertainty still prominent in her eyes, “I’ve been working on it?” She suggests, the question in her voice clear, because Tobin’s making absolutely no sense, but she’s not about to correct a stranger, least of all a stranger she has to sit next to for the entire game. 

 

They fall into awkward silence, and Tobin watches as Alex tries to nonchalantly turn back to her boyfriend, only to find him blissfully unaware of the current situation, talking statistics or something with his buddies. 

 

Again, Tobin tries to salvage the conversation.  

 

“So, you like balls?” She asks her, and then has to fight the urge to hit herself on the forehead, because  _ what kind of fucking question is that _ ? “I mean, uh, soccer. Soccer balls. And, uh, sports,” She tries to finish with, but Alex’s mouth is already open, blue eyes blinking wide in shock. 

 

_ Real fucking smooth, Heath. _

 

When Alex doesn’t say anything, Tobin takes this as her cue to  _ get the hell out of there _ as fast as she can. 

 

“I’m going to go get hot dogs,” She says then, really loudly, calling the attention of almost their entire row onto her, and it’s all Tobin can do to hide her burning face and hop over Servando and head up to the concession stand. 

 

She goes to the bathroom first to calm herself down, splashes some water on her face and stares herself down in the mirror, imploring her usual charisma to make an appearance before she royally screws up even more than she has already. 

 

And then she goes back. With seven hot dogs, because she’s sure the others will want one and a sure way to anyone’s heart is free, delicious, fried food. 

 

She stumbles back into their row with a big smile and her seven beautifully wrapped gifts only to be shot down once more, because Servando has a mustard allergy, and apparently Sigma Alpha Epsilon isn’t eating any meat that month to show solidarity towards something Tobin doesn’t ask about, so that leaves Tobin with seven hot dogs and Alex’s big blue eyes boring into the side of her face once more. 

 

She gets fidgety under the staring. She just wants the game to start, wants any sort of distraction to keep her attention off the pretty girl by her side that she has humiliated herself in front of within the span of a half hour. 

 

And then Tobin doesn’t know what happens, because things start turning in the complete opposite direction when Alex randomly leans really close to her.

 

“So, do  _ you _ like balls?” Alex asks her, and Tobin just about spits hot dog number three right out of her mouth as she turns to gape at Alex for a good twenty seconds, her mind absolutely blank. 

 

Her subconscious eventually kicks her butt into gear, because she knows how to recognize a miracle, and she knows they don’t come often, so she takes advantage of the one she’s given. 

 

“I’ve been known to enjoy a good ball. Occasionally. But I find that there’s uh, other things that can be more...enjoyable to partake in,” Tobin mumbles out, and then, to her great delight, Alex laughs beside her, the sound a gentle, light rasp that warms Tobin right up.

 

“Other things?” She quips, the bridge of her nose wrinkled with her smile, humor bright in the centers of her eyes.

 

“Other things,” Tobin responds, and because she’s an idiot, and that much of a dork, she allows a small wink—twitch, really—to make itself known.

 

And maybe, she thinks, Alex flushes a little when she looks away to stare down at her hands. 

 

She jerks up before Tobin can return to her hot dog, reaches out a hand to place it lightly on her forearm, shocking Tobin’s system into one of hyperawareness. 

 

“I like other things too,” She says, and Tobin falters, tilts her head, really takes her in and examines her. 

 

“Oh really?”

 

“Really,” Alex nods.

 

“Like what?” Tobin dares, leaning into her to escape the noise as the basketball game starts, “What do you like, Morgan?”

 

There’s a fun light that overtakes her eyes, a soft brilliance that Tobin knows she could fall in love with. 

 

“Well, I like people. And writing. And writing about people,” Alex tells her honestly, and Tobin smiles wide, falls to rest against the back of her seat, at ease.

 

“The soccer star everyone writes about likes to write herself, huh?” Tobin teases, and when Alex gives her a small smile and a roll of her eyes, continues, “I’m an engineering major myself. I fix things,” Tobin tells her, and the resulting smile she gets from Alex prompts a similar one of her own. 

 

“Cool,” Alex says, one perfect brow rising into a sharp arch, “Have you fixed anything I know of?”

 

“Your locker room,” Tobin says, amused when Alex’s mouth falls open in the right kind of shock. 

 

“Shut up,” She says, and then nudges Tobin sharply when she remains silent, “Shut up!” She repeats, and Tobin just raises up her hands in defense.

 

“I’m not saying anything,” Tobin complains, her eyes playful when Alex shoots her an unamused look the quickly dissolves back into open curiosity. 

 

“There’s no way you did our new locker rooms,” Alex says, and Tobin just shrugs a shoulder and sips her soda thoughtfully.

 

“I mean, whatever you say Lex,” Tobin responds, surprising herself with the way the nickname slips onto her tongue so easily. 

 

There’s a moment of silence again, of Alex staring at Tobin, only this time Tobin owns it, puts on a cooler front, a smile of ease in the hopes of conveying confidence and control over the situation, over the careful line of compliments and flirting that they toe. 

 

Alex responds to it, falling into her side when Tobin shifts to rest her arm—casually—on the back of her seat. 

 

Her sweet smell stuns Tobin for a moment, throws her off for a second, but then Alex resettles herself an appropriate distance from her once more, and it’s all okay. 

 

“Only my friends call me Lex, you know,” Alex says then, and Tobin is careful as she listens, analyzing the way she strings her words together. In the end, she decides that her tone isn’t a warning one of reproach, but is one of curiosity, excitement, and almost near impatience. 

 

“I’m a pretty good friend to have,” Tobin tries, and the look Alex gives her confirms that she is in fact saying the right things, that she isn’t bothering Alex, but is playing well within the bounds of what the blue eyed girl has deemed acceptable. 

 

“I don’t doubt that,” Alex tells her, a softness in her voice, “Santos is a good reference. He’s very fond of you. Almost too fond, Servando thinks,” Alex says, and then she hesitates and Tobin picks up on it, notes the subtle shift of her gaze, the gentle flutter of her eyelashes as she glances her way with huge, simmering blue eyes, “Are you?”

 

“Am I what?”

 

“Too fond of him,” Alex supplies, and Tobin wrinkles her nose in distaste.

 

“You’ve been listening to your boyfriend too much. Santos is my friend,” Tobin says.

 

“Servando isn’t my boyfriend,” Alex responds, just as quick, and this time it’s Tobin who raises a questioning brow.

 

“Does he know that?” She asks, and watches as Alex rolls her eyes, as she sighs softly, her shoulders moving against the back of her chair and simultaneously Tobin’s arm. 

 

“We see each other. That’s all,” Alex tells her, and Tobin’s other brow jumps up her face to join the first.

 

“And now?”

 

“Well, I’m looking at you right now, aren’t I?” Alex asks, and it’s Tobin’s turns to look away with pink cheeks. 

 

There’s more silence, this time a bit uncertain, and Tobin shifts and coughs awkwardly, her eyes flitting around before finding their way back to Alex with slight hesitation. 

 

“So, what kind of people do you write about?” Tobin asks, earnest, hoping to steer the conversation towards a safer route. 

 

Apparently Alex likes to be a little daring. 

 

“All kinds of people, really. Guys, girls…” She trails, blinks steady blue eyes her way, gets perhaps a little too close, “Engineers,” She husks, and Tobin sits straight up, hyperaware, because there’s really no other way to take her words than in a suggestive manner. 

 

And if Alex is going to be suggestive, Tobin’s not going to be able to hold it together. 

 

Tobin swallows hard, a little nervous, and she thinks Alex must see, because her eyes flicker to her throat briefly.

 

“Engineers are great people to write about,” Tobin tells her, her voice a little shaky, and it grows worse when Alex hears it and smirks, her eyes daring again, big and bold in their objective. 

 

“Full of surprises?” she quips, and again she’s a little too close, and her lips are just a little too pink and alluring, and Santos’s “hands off” message is just a little too loud in the back of Tobin’s mind. 

 

“And hot dogs!” She exclaims quickly, and then proceeds to compact herself back into her seat, reclaiming her arm in the process. She quickly gets to work eating the remnants of her food, which has sadly become cold, but it’s a welcome distraction to Alex trying to leave her hot and bothered. 

 

She thinks Alex tries to reclaim her attention, but she catches Servando eyeing the two of them curiously and keeps her eyes straight ahead on the court, unwilling to make trouble for herself and, indirectly, for Santos. 

 

Eventually the game starts and Alex’s eyes leave her for the court as well, and Tobin is able to settle back down. She might not exactly understand Alex Morgan, but she certainly understands basketball. 

 

Soon she forgets Alex’s eyes are even on her. 

 

Well, not completely. There's moments where Alex must get a little too excited about the success of the team, because her hands end up brushing against Tobin’s lower arm or upper thigh, and it sends tingles shooting through Tobin before she can stop them. 

 

_ Get a grip, _ she reminds herself firmly,  _ you don’t want trouble, not for you or for Santos _ .

 

However, despite her best effort, Alex eventually makes it damn near impossible to ignore her. Tobin figures that she must either really hate her and enjoy her pain, or she must really like her. 

 

She hopes with all she has for the second one. 

 

It’s halftime and the boys disappear to get food, with Servando promising—with a very unnecessary wink—that he’ll get Alex something  _ sweet _ . Tobin bristles for her—to defend her,  _ not _ because she’s a little jealous, she tells herself firmly—but Alex doesn’t even look his way. Tobin notes the frown that befalls Servando’s face when he isn’t able to regain her attention, and while at first it just makes her feel smug, she shrinks a little into her seat when Alex’s hands find their way back onto her body and his eyes narrow in an unpleasant way. 

 

Tobin waits for Servando to disappear before her mind tasks itself with reteaching Alex a few lessons on personal space. There’s not much she can say really, nothing besides  _ hey I don’t know if you noticed or not but you’re kind of all over me and while I am totally up for that I’m not up for your scary dude friend _ , but not even the start of the sentence makes it past Tobin’s lips before Alex wraps her arm around the back of her seat to be closer to her, and Tobin’s mind goes blank. 

 

Alex’s lips are at her ear, the sultry rasp of her voice in accompaniment.

 

“You know, I saw you looking at me at that party,” She says, and Tobin really can’t make her mind work as Alex’s arm moves from resting on the chair to resting on her opposite shoulder. 

 

At that point, there’s really no escape. Tobin flushes a deep red, stares as hard as she can down at her hands as she trips over her own words in a haste to get them out. 

 

“I uh, I don't go to parties, Lex. I only go to...uh, to small gatherings,” she fumbles, and she can't tell if Alex is laughing at her or for her when the noise comes, she only knows it makes her squirm even more. 

 

Alex’s fingertips are soft against the skin of her arm as she begins to trail featherlight patterns, and at this point Tobin is a bit past smitten and very far into swooning. 

 

“Well then, at the small gathering at the SAE house I saw you.”

 

Tobin nods nervously, swallows almost audibly. 

 

“Well I do sometimes make appearances at small gatherings,” she says, shuffling her feet; glancing around for anything other than bright eyes and smirking lips to watch. 

 

She finds herself disappointed. Not even the jumbotron has anything good on display, just a kiss cam lazily making its way around the stadium. 

 

Alex's eyes are still glued to her, simmering, probing, daring. 

 

“You uh, had something on your face that night,” Tobin tells her, watching confusion glitter over her features, “that's why I was…looking.” 

 

Alex pulls away slightly, purses her lips in amusement, releases a small giggle. 

 

“Well you should have come over and told me,” Alex tells her, and Tobin watches with eyes like saucers as her tongue darts out to strike a small, fast line across her lower lip as she wets it, “then you wouldn't have had to stare at me all night.”

 

Tobin’s mind goes blank as Alex’s opposite hand comes to rest on her thigh, and her face is practically on fire with the amount her cheeks burn. 

 

“Uh,” Tobin begins, without intention to form any sort of sentence. Thankfully, the kiss cam proves to finally be a distraction as it settles on a couple in the row behind them. The two of them end up on the corner of the Jumbotron while the couple above them shakes their head, refusing to kiss, and the entire row gets frisky as they try to pressure them into it. 

 

Alex has been frisky the entire night though, so it's not really a new development for Tobin as she fidgets nervously.

 

“Listen, Alex, you're great and all but—.”

 

As the crowd starts to get disappointed and the Jumbotron begins to pan away, Alex is suddenly one continuous movement, shutting Tobin right up as she suddenly finds her chin cradled in the palm of her hand, her soft fingers stroking the edge of her jaw. 

 

Her baby blue eyes aren't so innocent anymore, and Tobin finds herself stunned into stillness in their wake as they stare her down, filled with mirth and excitement and, somehow, in some way,  _ desire _ .

 

“Oh,” Alex says, tsking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and Tobin just about faints at the sound, “ _ you _ have something on your face this time. Let me get it for you.”

 

And, just like that, Tobin ends up kissing Alex Morgan in front of 30,000 people. 

 

\---

 

In the aftermath, Tobin still can't catch her breath, and just stares in stunned, ecstatic silence as Alex, with the utmost casualty, reapplies her strawberry lip gloss.

 

When she catches Tobin looking she swipes at the corner of her lip delicately with her finger, removing the excess, and grins wickedly her way, a single eyebrow raising over her dancing blue eyes. 

 

“Got it.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Questions and reactions taken at professional-danish.tumblr.com


End file.
